Dead Man Walking
by Sodapop Allerdyce
Summary: Chapter Two: A Window's View: During the Sorting Hat Ceremony, the identities of the two lone, dark strangers(first seen in Ch1)are revealed as a new DADA professor and the other is a seventh year Ravenclaw. (Ch2Complete)
1. Chapter One: In the Eyes of the Beholder

UPDATED: Friday, April 23, 2004  
  
Author's Note: Like I said in the fiction discussion thread, this is the story that I meant to do for a new take on my carry on story long ago. Although I altered much of the mystery and plot, the idea/theme of reincarnations and the infusion of two worlds remain the same. (That's for those of you who have read and/or worked with me before on the harry potter carry on's.) Below, is only part of the first chapter and is a bit rough. I may, later, go back and make a few tiny changes. But, being the impatient and hyped person that I am, I couldn't wait to show this off to everyone who reads my work! Enjoy and please pm/post me a nice review. .  
  
Title: Dead Man Walking  
  
Author: Sodapop Allerdyce  
  
Category: Books Harry Potter (Book Crossovers Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings)  
  
Genre: Mystery/Action/Adventure/Fantasy  
  
Rated: G to PG-13  
  
Spoiler: Year 6  
  
Synopsis: After ending a dramatic fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry begins to have these strange "visions" in his dreams. He has not a clue as to what these dreams could mean. Only that somehow, they feel so...familiar?  
  
Completeness: Chapter One with more on the way.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing that J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling created within their stories.

**Dead Man Walking  
**  
Chapter One: In the Eyes of the Beholder

_With eyes closed, he could hear the sounds of pain, sobs of sorrow, and anger echoing about in his ears that he would never forget. The rise and fall of his chest was moving with slight difficulty for his body was growing weary from battling nearly endless battalions of oncoming, rampaging orcs from Isenguard. The sound of crunching leaves on the forest floor and the scrapping of a grip shifting upon a sword's handle, alerted his wondering mind that he must not linger further or it could mean his death. He quickly reached up and grabbed the cold, black iron shield that was pinning him to the trunk of a tree by the neck. Carefully shifting his position and weight, he jerked his head downwards to free it, but he only ended up slamming his chin onto the edge of the gap. The tiny surge of pain caused his eyes to snap open to reveal a huge, rusty colored Urak Kai leader coming in for the kill, slowly raising its bizarre shaped sword. His eyes widened and heart raced, as the blade was brought forth to his neck.  
  
Just in a mere few seconds before contact, he shifted again and managed to slip his head below the shield, free of harm's way. He sighed in deep relief as the sound of metal against wood was heard above his head. Without a moment to lose, with the orc still going in follow through, he reached towards his side and unsheathed his mighty sword as he moved towards the orc with great speed. The gleaming blade immediately penetrated dark flesh upon the Urak Hai's bare stomach. Instead of hearing a satisfying cry of pain, there came a roar of anger as the creature turned its attention and kicked the ranger in the side to get him off. Gripping his weapon tightly as he was rolling off to the side, he soon countered that by flipping up onto his feet. Once again, his opponent came charging forth and this time the ranger was ready for him.  
  
The forest was soon filled with sounds of metal clashing, cries of anger, and the rustling of leaves as the two traded off advances and sending one another to the ground. At one point, the Urak Kai managed to trip him, but the ranger quickly regained balance and brought out his dagger to meet the orc's right leg. With the creature's attention shifted to its wound, he lifted his sword and brought it down like an axe to sever the arm holding the sword. Bringing his ranger blade back up and a few inches to the right, plunged the tip deeply into the Urak Hai's belly. Getting the thing's attention, it reached out with lightning speed to grab and plunge the weapon even deeper. Although this cost the orc more pain, it brought the ranger closer in range enough for it to attack psychically. But before the creature could do any damage and with his grip weak, the mortal was able to slid it back out of reach. Tables were turned as the ranger swung his sword to take his turn in decapitating his foe as the final blow.  
  
The thick, oily blood of the proud Urak Hai leader shown brightly upon the blade of the ranger as he completed the follow through of the blow. Also, moving his gaze along with the hurtling creature's head before it hit the ground with some interest and disgust. He remained still like this until he heard the rough, disappointed grunt of a familiar dwarf coming not far from behind him. The sound quickly shattered his unseeing state and forcing life back into his cloudy, green-grey eyes of their battle spirit. With reality rapidly crashing down on him, the ranger's heart was filled with grief and sorrow as the memories of a dying friend came back to mind. "Boromir...," he whispered under his breath as he turned to make a mad dash in the direction of his companion.  
  
The colors of the lush forest began to blur as tears began to sting his eyes...and the sound of pounding feet and knocking on wood could be heard?!_ Bolting upright in bed, a sleepy teenager with dark brown messy hair named Harry Potter, got his own reality wake up call. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he slowly took in his surroundings of old springy beds and dusty antique lamps about the cramped bedroom. Feeling a sudden wave of nausea coming on, Harry laid back down to wait for his mind to clear. He stared up at the chipped ceiling, since it seemed like the only thing in the room that wasn't 'moving.'  
  
As the waves of dizziness calmed to ripples in the young sorcerer's mind, so did the abnormally bright shade of green of his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, and they were soon back to their normal dark emerald. Suddenly, the knocking from earlier became louder and Harry realized that someone had been there doing so since he woke. "Harry, dear?" came the sweet, high voice of Mrs. Weasley from the other side. "Are you awake and dressed yet?" "Uhm...no, Ma'am..." said the latter in a hoarse voice, laced with sleep that was vanishing rapidly. He yawned and stretched a bit before reaching over to the night stand for his glasses. "Well, you better hurry up before the twins decide to start eating your breakfast without you, Harry dear!" yelled Mrs. Weasley over her shoulder as her footsteps faded towards the stairs down the hallway.  
  
'Those two must have bottomless stomachs,' thought Harry as he shook his head and crawled out of bed. He hissed softly as feet touched cold floor from the morning's freeze. This is what he hated about waking up in the morning and having a habit of wearing no socks to bed or around the house. Harry made his way over to the end of his bed to go rifling through his trunk for clean clothes. Spending a couple of minutes with no success of finding clean laundry, he got lazy and just grabbed his crimson and gold Quidditch uniform cloak and slipped it on over his pajamas.  
  
Making his way down the hall to the stairs, Harry could feel the small grooves in the old wooden floor from years of use. Somewhere in his mind, it told him that this texture reminded him of the old wooden platforms that snaked about the trees within' the Lothlorian forest. During the night when he couldn't sleep, he would take off his weather beaten boots and go wondering about the balconies that lay near the open air room. Suddenly bringing a stand still to these "memories," Harry wondered where did that come from. 'I don't...never have...owned any boots in my life...' he thought. Harry turned these ideas over in his mind as he descended the first flight of stairs. But the more he thought about it, the more confusion it caused him in finding it's source, it's cause.  
  
As Harry zigzagged his way through the obstacle course of furniture through the living room, he tried to find a logical explanation for these strange dreams just before a headache began to form. Recalling all the dreams he had since the last couple of days of his fifth year and the start of summer vacation, they were all about the same person. Harry was never able to get a good look at this person, but he did know that this man was named Aragorn. Well...at least that was what people referred to him as in his dreams. Either that or Strider. From what Harry could tell, Aragorn was a tall, observative, intelligent and a courageous fighter. He was especially good with wielding a sword.  
  
Whenever one of these dreams came on, Harry had no control whatsoever in what he did in his dreams except his own thoughts...and sometimes he heard Aragorn's...It was like he was in this man's mind and seeing, doing, and feeling what he did. Through the eye's of an experienced warrior, Harry could see wonderful landscapes of devine forests and fields. Plus, to know what it feels like to kill a living thing in battle and not take time to pity it. Somehow this was all possible...Somehow these dreams felt...  
  
Various "Good Morning, Harry"'s and "Oiye, Harry!"'s came flooding through his ears, interrupting his train of thought. With the mist clearing from his mind and eyes, they soon regained focus on reality. Harry's vision was met with a group of familiar, freckled faces and red haired family that were the Weasleys. Suddenly, he was able feel his fingers rubbing his temples free of a minor headache, which he hadn't noticed until now. Curling his lips into a small smile, Harry said in his usual soft, shy morning voice, "Good Morning..." He walked over to the table to sit in his usual seat next to Ron and across from the twins, Fred and George. Mrs. Weasley was soon at his side, serving him some fresh pancakes, bacon, eggs and a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. "Are you alright, Harry dear?" she asked kindly, her tone of a concerned mother.  
  
"Huh?" came the muffled reply of the latter with a chunk of toast in his mouth. Looking up to clarify the question asked of him, Harry said in return, "I'm fine." It was a flat and vague answer, but Mrs. Weasley accepted it anyways. She didn't feel like pushing the matter. For all she knew, Harry was probably still depressed over his late godfather, Sirius Black. Ending the conversation, Mrs. Weasley made her way around to the Twin's side of the table to give them second helpings to breakfast. Harry slowly picked up his fork and began to chow down on his pancakes. He was used to that question by now, but never really wanted to give a lengthy answer to whoever asked. Everyone believed it was Sirius on his mind, but that wasn't always true. Not these days.  
  
A few moments later, after everyone had finished eating, Mrs. Weasley announced that she would be taking everyone to Diagon Alley today to go shopping for supplies for the coming school year in a few days. Rushing back upstairs, all the teenagers quickly got dressed in some normal muggle street clothes with their black school cloaks over them. About fifteen minutes later, they all piled out of the cramped station wagon and made their way through the Leaky Cauldron. Gathered out back standing in front of the brick wall, Mrs. Weasley took out her wand and tapped certain bricks in a specific pattern to make them shift and allow the group passage. Once the bricks shifted into an arched doorway to reveal the alley beyond, their gazes were met with crowds of wizards shrouded in dark colored cloaks that were protecting them from the rain.  
  
Looking up to the cloudy sky above, Mrs. Weasley mumbled softly out of wonder, "What strange weather we're having..." Then to herself, 'I have never known it to rain here...' With her wand still in hand, she quickly swished and flicked it to conquer up six rain proof cloaks with hoods. Before allowing any of her charges to enter, Mrs. Weasley handed each of them a cloak and some money before running off. Fred and George raced off down the alley to get to the other end where the joke shop was. Ginny immediately ran into a bunch of her fellow fifth year girlfriends to go check out the clothing and shoe stores. Leaving Ron and Harry to make their way over to the Magical Mangerie to rendevous with Hermione.  
  
Upon arrival just outside the pet shop, Hermione came out with a smile for them and hands busy holding bags of school and cat supplies for her cat, Crookshanks. Putting her burdens down on the ground, she came over and gave then each a warm welcome and hug. Hermione took a quick peek at her silver watch that her parents had gotten her for her sweet sixteenth birthday. Looking back up at the boys, she said, "As much as I love seeing you guys again, I'm sorry that I can't stay long this time. I need to get back to the Leaky Cauldron shortly after lunch time. So we'll have to rush for now, is that okay? Let's go!" And with that, Hermione quickly lead the way over to Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occassins shop, back the way that the boys had come. They went here first because she had insisted upon getting them all new robes since their old ones had been battered from their last adventure. Over the next couple of hours, Hermione dragged her friends almost all over Diagon Alley. They went to the stationary store, Fine Quidditch Supplies, a couple of book stores, and then went to the ice cream shop for a much needed lunch break.  
  
Afterwards, Ron requested to go to the joke shop to see what the Twins were up to now. When the trio did get there, to Harry and Hermione's relief, they didn't see any of the new incoming first and second years' faces twisted in illness that were gathered around Fred and George in front of the shop. While Ron went to go look in the shop and chat with his brothers, Harry and Hermione stood nearby the crowd, not interested in what the shop had to offer. Soon, Harry's attention began to wander to gaze about at the dark clad figures going by them. He found it a little unnerving to see absolutely everyone in such dark cloaks. They reminded him of Death Eaters and Dementors, of whom he didn't have fond memories of.  
  
Hermione shifted her weight over to her other leg in slight boredom, then checked her watch again. "Oh shoots! It's almost 1 o'clock!" she said anxiously. Hearing the alarm in her voice, Harry turned his gaze to her just as Ron was coming back over to them. "You need to get back already?" asked Harry. She nodded, "Do you guys want to come with me?" "Sure, no problem, Herm," answered Ron. "Harry?" The latter checked his own watch and shook his head at them. "No. Sorry, Hermione. Since we ourselves have to get going in an hour or so, I must get to Ollivander's right now. See you in a couple of days, Hermione." The two quickly traded hugs before she and Ron made their way about the crowd and down the alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry turned on his heal and walked past a few shops over to Ollivander's wand shop.  
  
Inside Ollivander's, the shop was narrow and filled with shelves that held thousands of little narrow boxes of wands. The room was dimly lite by the incoming sunlight and oil burning lamps. There was an arm chair near the window and a front desk some odd feet away. Harry walked straight up to the counter and tapped the little service bell. The little ting of the bell was soon followed by the squealing sound of wheels sliding across a rail. Soon, the form of Mr. Ollivander appeared, perched high on that book case latter. The old man's face twisted into a smile as his misty eyes came to rest upon Harry's. "Ahhh...Mister Harry Potter has returned! Long time no see, young sir. What brings you here this time?"  
  
"Er...Hello, Mr. Ollivander. I'm here to get my wand fixed...or replaced...," said Harry in a slow reply. Reaching into his cloak's inner chest pocket, he pulled out his battered wand and handing it over to the curious shop owner. Harry quickly supplied that he had busted it during a Defense Against The Dark Arts class fifth year. He lied by saying that a new spell that the class had been practicing had gone awry when two people had fired the same spell that collided into both wands. Breaking or disabling their magical use somehow. Ollivander just raised a silver brow at this and said nothing in return as he continued to scrutinize Harry's wand. With a few quick mutters to himself, the old man soon looked up at Harry and said, "In conclusion, your wand can't be fixed, Mr. Potter. I'll have to hand you some wands to test you again. There are some new brands that came in earlier, I'll go to the back and get them for you. Wait here."  
  
Shortly after Ollivander left the front desk, the sound of creaking hinges on the front door announced the entrance of another customer. The little hair's on the back of Harry's neck suddenly raised and that feeling made him not want to turn around to see who the newcomer was. He could hear the soft clonking of boots tapping the floor as the person drew nearer. Harry could now see a tall figure (not much taller than him) standing next to him clad in a black cloak with the hood remaining up within his perepheral vision. Judging by the built, it was a man. The hood moved slowly from side to side as the mysterious man studied the appearance of the wand shop. Soon the gaze fell upon the bell and a black leather gloved hand tapped it a couple of times. The call brought the shop owner rushing back.  
  
With his arms full of narrow boxes, Ollivander carefully placed them on the counter before Harry and then scooted over to the new customer in waiting. Harry quickly chose a wand and began testing it in the direction of a nearby empty book shelf. Once the wooden shelves of the object snapped off and fell to the floor, he placed the wand back to grab another. Just as Harry was doing so, he noticed the hooded figure's head ever so slightly turned in his direction and then back to the old man at the counter. Ollivander struck up his cheery smile again and said, "Welcome to Ollivander's Fine Wands shop! I don't believe I have seen you here before, young man. How may I help you?"  
  
'Young man?!' thought Harry in surprise as he got out a third new wand to swish and flick away at a corner of empty boxes. To prove that he wasn't hearing things, the young man under the dark cloak began to speak. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander. You are right, we have never met. I'm sort of new to this area," he said. His voice sounded young and calm, but wise in some way. "I have a favor to ask of you..." he said as one hand shifted the cloak on his right side away to reveal a dark brown leather belt. There were some loops on the belt, one was occupied by a foot to a foot and half long white wand of some sort. This didn't look like any wand that Harry had ever seen for it was thicker in mass around and one end didn't narrow down to a stubbed point.  
  
The mysterious youth held up the wand near his chest, but not outstretched to the store clerk. Harry watched intently now, as a gloved thumb slowly stroked over a string of engraved golden symbols upon the upper end of the wand. Since the little store had gone utterly silent, the wizards could hear the young man softly inhale and chant, "_Bragol alaa, Ita'istar_." The enchantment caused the symbols to glow softly as the image of the white wand began to shimmer like a mirage in a desert. One end began to grow downwards, so the youth moved it a few inches away from his body. While that end made its journey to the ground, the other increased a bit before sprouting into an intricately weaved carving with a strange jewel trapped within' it. Once that jewel had manifested into the carving, the tall, narrow, ivory white wizard's staff had ceased its soft glow and shimmering dulled until the rays of torch light were able to reflect off of it.  
  
Harry and the elderly shop keeper gazed at this in an amazed stupor. The stranger shifted his grasp upon the staff and placed the end tip upon the wooden floor of the wand shop. From the way he held it, it was as if it were a walking stick. "I ask of you to find a wand that matches the material of this staff," said the soft spoken voice of the youth. He carefully lifted the wand and placed it upon the front counter. With his hand still upon it and slowly observing the shop once again, "If such a thing were to exist...in this time and day..." Suddenly snapping out of his stupor, Mr. Ollivander nodded his head briskly and placed his own wrinkled hand upon the mysterious staff.  
  
"I'll get on it, young sir!" said Mr. Ollivander. The hood gave a curt nod of recognition and released his grip. Ollivander scooped up the staff with both hands balancing it near the ends and turned to make his way towards the opposite end of his shop. Although the old shop keeper had many burning questions to ask the young sorcerer, after witnessing such a sight as he did, Ollivander was so anxious to examine the staff that his bewilderment didn't seem important.  
  
Soon the little shop had gone quite once more, with only the faint sounds of breathing and the patter of rain upon the roof. Harry's hands slowly made their way back to sorting through the pile of wands. He felt like he needed to occupy himself so that he wouldn't have to fill in the silence. His mind was not quite ready to let him voice any curiosity he had towards this stranger. Harry felt like he needed to observe this person more than to question. But, that need soon faded away after a few moments of utter silence between the two and some odd defect wands later. Placing the wand back down and finally turning his attention to the hooded figure, Harry asked shyly, "Uh...Excuse me, sir...Who are you?"  
  
Upon being addressed, the mysterious youth straightened his posture and slowly turned to face the young sorcerer and to lean against the counter. For the first time and at a new angle, Harry could now see that he had deep blue eyes. The eyes were all he could see amongst the shadows that shrouded the youth's face in darkness underneath the dark hood. "All I am is but a wanderer seeking knowledge of this changing land. To see what this place has to offer and teach me that of what other places could not. Am I right in assuming that there is a place of learning here?" asked the stranger in his usual calm voice.  
  
Harry didn't answer him right away for he was taking the time to absorb this information and sort it. The answer to his question was vague...or more like it was incryptive...but either way, it didn't exactly answer the question asked. "Er...there isn't a school here...but there is one not far from King Cross Station called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm a sixth year there," answered Harry. Then in a curious, slightly suspicious tone, "Why you ask?"  
  
There was a short pause and then the youth spoke in a reflective tone, "Ah...Hogwarts. Now that name **does** ring a bell... Before I moved here, I had the option of going to any wizarding school within' Europe. I thought I'd check this place out before I headed on over to Germany and France. Besides, at least the people here speak English!" The stranger grinned warmly underneath his hood, but Harry didn't notice.  
  
A "wow" expression spread across Harry's face. "That's cool. So...does that make you an American?" he asked. He has never met an American before nor one that was a wizard at the same time.  
  
"More or less," replied the latter, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in a "so-so" motion.  
  
"Huh...," whispered Harry as he relaxed his shoulders from the brief excitement. Than taking a few seconds to think and then out loud, "Well...If you plan to enroll at Hogwarts, you better do it soon. Term starts in a couple of days."  
  
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," said the youth. He paused in mid-thought as he observed Harry's appearance, measuring him up. The deep blue eyes came to rest upon a certain feature that stood out amongst everything upon the boy's face. An oddly shaped scar almost hidden by those unruly brown bangs.  
  
Harry immediately realized what the stranger was staring at. He half prayed, half hoped, that this guy wouldn't make a scene about his lightning shaped scar like everyone else did. Too many people would get excited or praise the sight of the famous Harry Potter. He found it quite annoying and extremely embarrassing if the wizard bowed or asked for a group picture...or something like that...  
  
The mysterious youth titled his head to the side slightly and lifted a hand to point in the general direction of the scar. "_How_ did you get that scar?" he asked, with a faint tone of awe.  
  
'Wow, didn't see that **one** coming!' thought Harry sarcastically and mentally rolled his eyes. "...It's a long story...I'd rather not say." To emphasize that command, he waved a hand in the air to dismiss further questions on the matter. For a fraction of a second there, Harry got the notion like he was advising a guard or counselor to stand down.  
  
"Oh, I see...," said the youth in a soft spoken, gentler, sympathetic tone. "Well...please forgive me for intruding." The hood bowed his head, weighing in the possible tragic scenarios in his mind. From the way the boy expressed his answer, the body language and quick denial, made it plainly obvious that the story behind the scar was painful and personal.  
  
The sudden sound of worn out leather shoes scuffling towards them, prevented any more questions that the youth may have had for Harry. Cerulean orbs flickered over to the elderly shop keeper, eyeing the staff and the dark narrow box in hand. Mr. Ollivander straightened his posture and put on his signature warm smile as he took up his place behind the counter, once again. "Hullo, again! Sorry that I took so long. Finding a wand crafted out of material as rare as your staff here, is a hard find, young sir." He lifted and placed the staff upon the desk, then presented the little box to the mysterious youth before him.  
  
The latter stared at the box for a bit, then reached out with a gloved hand and took the offering. With the other hand, he pulled away part of the ashen hued cloak and neatly deposited the box into the nearest chest pocket. "How much does your service cost here, Mr. Ollivander?" asked the stranger as he shifted his grip over to the other side of his jacket to reach for his wallet. He soon produced a nearly foot long, rectangular shaped, black leather thing that folded over like a book. The youth flipped it open upon his open palm to reveal rows of little slits stuffed with dollar pills on one side, and the other with coins used in the wizarding world. The only other time that Harry had seen a wallet like that, were of the rich, like Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Aren't you going to check the contents?!" asked the shop keeper, incredulously.  
  
Blue eyes met the silvery ones, looking up from his wallet and grinned beneath the shadows. "No, I believe that isn't necessary. I trust you made the right choice. On the other hand, if you hadn't, I would most likely come back to haunt you, sir." The youth softly chuckled at his little joke to which the younger wizards did not get right away. He rolled his eyes at this, than asked the elderly shop keeper once more, "How much is service here?"  
  
Mr. Ollivander just stared at the young man in bewilderment before he too, began to laugh at the comment. 'Like that'll ever happen!' he thought to himself. Then out loud to his customer in waiting, "That'll be seven galleons, young sir. In muggle terms, that would've cost you $51.31!"  
  
"I assumed as much...," replied the latter as his gloved fingers shifted through the slits, counting up and removing the right amount of gold coins known as galleons to this world. He weighed the money in his hand, thinking something over in his mind as he studied the glitter of the coins. Suddenly, the youth closed his palm and used two fingers to remove three silver, sickles out along with the numerous amount already there. He stretched his arm out towards the clerk and slowly dumped the payment into the awaiting hand. Mr. Ollivander quickly calculated the amount there and before he could interject, the youth said to him, "I'm quite aware that that's too much there, but it's the least I could do to repay you for the trouble of my task."  
  
Mr. Ollivander smiled warmly and nodded his head gleefully at this new found tip. "Thank you, sir! Thank you, kind, young sir! It's not everyday that I get to meet kids as kind as you!" He bowed and then made his way over to the cash register machine to deposit the money.  
  
While the elder was busy with that, the mysterious youth picked up his wizard's staff with care and stood it on end before him. "_Lanta kaima, Ita'istar..._," he softly whispered to it. Once more, the golden inscription glowed brightly and the tall form of the staff seemed to melt away, shimmer, back into the stubby, yet massive thing that Harry had mistaken for a wand earlier.  
  
The youth held the now portable version of his staff in his left hand, as his right shifted down to his side to shove away some of his dark cloak over his belt. He looked down at the belt loop and slipped the wand into it as if he were re-sheathing a sword. The stranger grabbed the side of his cloak to shift it outwards and place it back over his side, but that was not before Harry caught a quick glimpse of a metallic colored hilt.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed at the curious sight in thought and then quickly turned his attention back over to the pile of narrow wand boxes before the stranger noticed him staring. 'A metal hilt...," thought Harry, trying to make a connection. All of a sudden, it clicked and a light of thought came to mind. 'Bloody hell, it's a sword!' He quickly looked over at the youth from the corner of his eyes before returning back to his theory. "A sword...but...but what would **he** need it for...?"  
  
Just as Harry's mind was recalling what the hilt looked like, someone said, "Pardon the interruption, young one, but what's your name?" Harry's head snapped up and looked about for the owner of the voice. A wave of a gloved hand near his face, got his attention to the youth. "My name?" he asked. The hood of the stranger nodded gently. "Harry. Harry Potter."  
  
The mysterious youth smiled and held out a hand towards Harry. "Nice to meet you, Harry Potter," he said. The boy looked at his hand, hesitated, and than shook it. During that short time of contact, deep blue eyes looked right through the pools of emerald, searching for something of great importance. Once he found what he looking for, the youth concentrated a little harder which caused Harry's eyes to flicker an eerie green for a fraction of a second. The strange glow proved to him that he had finally found the one, "him", and that the search was finally over.  
  
As Harry placed his hand back at his side, he couldn't believe what he felt during that hand shake and brief eye contact. After he had introduced himself to the youth, the hilt...the sword's identity...had come back to him from somewhere far off in his being. For some unknown reason, he had felt angry enough to yell at the stranger. Something like, "Hey! That's my sword! Where did you find it?!" It was as if the youth had stolen something of his. This was becoming so confusing, and yet...  
  
Suddenly, the sound of boots making the old wooden floor of the shop creak begin to fade beside him, cause reality to return back to Harry's glazed eyes. He turned his gaze towards the open door that the youth was about to go through and bring in the daylight for a short time. "Hey, wait! I didn't get your name!" said Harry urgently.  
  
The mysterious youth paused in the doorway and slowly turned to face Harry. "It's Larsen. Just call me Larsen, for now." Then he looked past the boy over to the shop keeper and nodded curtly, "_'Quel re_!" The stranger turned to leave, but before he did, he said to Harry over his shoulder, "_Saesa omentien lle, meloneamin...Elessar_." And with that, the mysterious youth left the little shop with a flick of his large black cloak into the rain and was gone.  
  
Harry stared out that door, utterly stupefied to the spot. A part of him was kind of scared for he actually understood that strange language that the youth said to him. 'He called me, Elessar. How did he know my old name? I have never told anyone that name nor anything about my dreams! Whatever has been going on in my head about Aragorn...has been my business. Just mine!' said Harry to himself. The other part of him that was unafraid, was in some perverse way, relieved. Relieved to know that he would see this Larsen guy again and maybe get some answers from him of questions he didn't know how to ask or could think up of.  
  
After that excitement was over and reality rooted its way deeply into Harry's mind, he spent the next twenty minutes to half an hour testing wands again. He soon came upon a wand that was crafted of the same wood as his old wand, but was infused with the blood, tears, and scales of a dragon from long ago and whose existence was unknown, instead of a single phoenix's tail feather. Mr. Ollivander took the wand from him and inscribed Harry's initials near the rounded end of the wand with a magical feather pen. He explained to Harry that he was required to do this now with the new models and other emergencies the owner may have with the wand.  
  
Harry agreed that was a good idea, paid for his item, and left Ollivander's to make his way down the busy pathways of Diagon Alley. Just as he was passing the joke shop, he began to worry if he should've waited at the shop for the Weasleys to come and get him. Harry had told Ron and Hermione that he would be there for a bit. Than again, he didn't feel like retracing his steps back to there. He opted to keep going towards the end of the alley near The Leaky Cauldron and assumed that the family could be found there. Besides, Mrs. Weasley spent most of her day at the book shop, half the time they were here. No less looking for Lockhart's new book. Harry would always roll his eyes at that for he couldn't believe that she was still a fan of Lockhart's after all that had happened second and fifth year.  
  
He passed by many shops along the way, but none of them mattered enough to see what was showcasing in their display windows. Harry just couldn't stop thinking of that stranger back in the wand shop and what they said to each other. He ran their conversation over and over in his mind until Flourish and Blott's came into view, but he didn't seem to actually **see** the store.  
  
Harry was about to make his way around a small crowd in front of the shop, until Ron Weasley stepped into his path and waved his hands about to get his friend's attention. "Oiye! Earth to Harry! Come back, Harry!" he said, sort of laughing at the same time too. The latter jumped and took a step back to allow his mind to re-adjust to what was going on before him. Harry's heart skipped a couple of beats as he looked frantically about to take in his surroundings. Now with a mind finally settling and coming to grips with reality, Harry noticed that the little crowd upon the border of his foggy vision were the Weasleys. They all seemed to be amused, some were smiling and the twins were laughing their heads off. It appeared to him that they had been waiting for him.  
  
"Are you alright, Harry dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley like a concerned mother. "We were just about to send Ron after you, since I had just finished my shopping. Also, did you have enough money for your new wand?"  
  
"Yes, I did, actually. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," answered Harry shyly as he made his way over to the bench in front of the book store to sit down and relax his exhausted mind. He leaned the back of his head against the cool glass, and was grateful that there was an awning above his head to shield off the oncoming rain. Harry closed his eyes a bit, just to take the time to feel the cooler temperature outside today, welcoming it. Hearing the sound of splashing, moving water seemed to comfort him. Hmm...maybe the gentle patter of rain against his skin wouldn't be so bad after all...  
  
Suddenly, he felt a warm hand against his forehead. Harry slowly opened his eyes as he looked up to see who was touching him. It was Mrs. Weasley checking his temperature. Her brows were knit with deep concern as she studied his skin coloration and temperature about his forehead. Just when Harry was getting the notion to swat her hand away, she stopped and stood back a bit. "You don't seem to have any signs of a fever, deary. But, I think it would be best if we all get you home to warm you up and get you to bed soon. Don't want you to get sick before the new school year starts and have to miss school for it!" Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly and patted his shoulder, "Get up, Harry dear!"  
  
Harry got up slowly from his spot and thought that sleep did seem appealing to his weary body. He stretched his limbs a bit as some of the Weasleys began to make their way over to the Leaky Cauldron. Ron lagged behind the crowd of his family, just enough for Harry to catch up and wait for him. Just when Harry was about to follow, he got a sinking feeling that he was being watched. He looked about at the nearby shops, street corners suspiciously, and found nothing until he turned all the way around to face the book shop.  
  
Harry studied most of the faces and bookshelves within' the busy shop. Then his eyes widen as he noticed who was standing towards the back of the place in the historical section. The dark form of the mysterious youth, Larsen, was leaning against a book shelf, facing his direction. But, he didn't seem to be looking in Harry's direction anymore. Larsen was talking to another person dressed all in black and who was taller than both of them.  
  
"Damn it, Harry! Hurry up!" yelled Ron impatiently. "Coming!" yelled Harry, not yet having turned his gaze away from the display window. He sighed heavily and decided that he would have to investigate this later or never again. Harry quickened his pace to catch up and match Ron's side by side. They had just managed to catch up with the rest of the Weasleys just in time as they were about to close the entrance to Diagon Alley. Once all of the bricks had clicked back into place, everyone removed their rain proof cloaks and made their way through The Leaky Cauldron, back into a bright sunny day within' the muggle world.  
  
Sometime after Harry and the Weasleys had gone home, the mysterious youth and his companion emerged from Flourish and Blott's to take their leave. They made their way over to the brick wall that leads to The Leaky Cauldron's back entrance. The shorter one, Larsen, stepped forward and reached out with a hand to feel the texture and secrets of the passage. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The youth lifted his hand slowly from the wall and began to tap it with two fingers in correct precision. Magical properties within' the wall accepted this, and shifted into an archway for the two lone rangers in waiting.  
  
Larsen took a step to the side, in order for his companion to get by. Then he himself took a couple of steps forward and paused below the archway. The youth turned halfway around to gaze up at the cloudy skies above the alley. He took a few moments to admire the falling rain upon the stores below. Larsen breathed in the fresh air deeply, and then became very still like a statue. He seemed to be staring really hard at a section of the sky where the sun should've been able to be seen. His eyes began to glow a faint, sky blue and sliver of silver began to swirl within' those deep pools of cerulean.  
  
As the colors swirled within' Larsen's eyes, the sky above started to clear in a few patches of gaps between monstrous clouds. The fluffy clouds saturated with water, began to bottle up their crying and the occupants below became just a bit dryer. Once the rain had slowed down to a light drizzle, Larsen blinked his eyes and allowed his body to relax. He had decided that this was far enough, good ol' mother nature could take care of the rest. Also, it wouldn't look natural if had just let the rain stop, skies clear, and the sun come out of all a sudden.  
  
When the mysterious youth had allowed him self to relax, the bright blue within' his iris's darkened to the hue of day at twilight. The slip of silver swirled around once more until it was drained into the vast darkness, abyss of his pupils.  
  
Larsen looked about, allowing his eyes to refocus until his surroundings were clear to him. Then, he turned around to follow in tow with his companion through the fairly innocent looking tavern. As they wound their way past long tables and drunk wizards, Larsen knew that the weather above the alley would clear soon and none would be the wiser bellow those skies. Plus, he needed to change out of this old cloak of his before they reached the front door.  
  
The youth reached up with one hand to push down upon the leaf shaped clasp of his cloak near his neck. The neckline parted and soon the stitches in the cloth began to re-route themselves. Threads began to change directions, sections of cloth began to come apart in strange places, and soon the whole design began to change, transform. Even bits of the cloth seemed to melt away and metal buttons and zippers appeared near the edges of the newly formed leather trench coat.  
  
Nearby, Larsen's companion had done the same, but only his was made of khaki, not leather. They both tied up their belts to close their coats, to prevent whatever they were carrying to be revealed in public. The hoods upon their heads were the last things to transform. Soon, the candle lights were able to reflect upon the lower half of their faces. The youth's companion reached the door first and twisted the knob. And as they stepped out into the mid-afternoon sunlight, the two lone rangers lifted up a hand and pulled back their hoods to feel the glorious warmth of the dying summer.  
  
**TO BE CONTINUED  
**  
Author's Note: Wow, everyone! I finally finished the first chapter to this story! dances about for joy About time too, for this chapter took me about two months to complete. That's if you count all those times that I got writer's block. laughs I really do hope that you, my readers, are all enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. I got so excited as I was wrapping up this chapter and anticipating what I got in store for you all in the next chapter. Believe me, you're going to get a kick out of and love it! . eek I will be introducing a new character from this chapter and have him become familiar in all of your eyes! I'm not going to say which one of the mysterious lone rangers it is. wink wink Omg! He's going to be so kick ass! In looks...and just about everything! clears throat Anyways and on a high note, please keep a close eye upon my two new original characters throughout the story. They are vital to the plot and what is happening to Harry, too. . one more thing before I let you all go, like I said in my old author's note at the end of this chapter, please keep coming back to check on this story. Just in case if I had added new content within' a chapter without this whole story coming up as updated on the list of misc. stories. I will be almost constantly doing that here and at kmc forums. So keep a sharp look out and I'll try my best to keep you guys up to date about my story!  
  
Later (and see you around),  
  
Sodapop Allerdyce  
  
P/S: One of these days, I'm going to change my current pen name to this one above!  
  
I would also like to thank my faithful reviewers: airangel429, Trickster, LavieraJ, Veralidaine, Christina B, miriel, Tonks, and Princess Aranel.  
  
Translations/Terminology Log:  
  
_Lanta kaima, Ita'istar_ = Sleep, Illusionist (from **Elven Phrases**)  
  
_Bragol alaa, Ita'istar_ = Enlarge, Illusionist  
  
_'Quel re_ = Good Day  
  
_Saesa omentien lle, meloneamin...Elessar_ = Pleasure meeting you, my friend...Elessar (Aragorn)  
  
Seven Galleons = $51.31; One Galleon = $7.33 (from the **Harry Potter Lexicon**)  
  
Three Sickles = $1.29; One Sickle = $0.43  
  
**CHAPTER TWO: A WINDOW'S VIEW (SPOILER – TURN BACK IF YOU REALLY DON'T WANT TO KNOW!):  
**  
There's always something special going on or about to happen on the first day of school in the wizarding world for a boy named Harry Potter. A new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts arrives, his true identity and nature surrounded by great mystery. Harry observes him on the way to school and during the Sorting Hat Ceremony and wonders: Does he post any danger to anyone? (Especially him?) Only time will tell as Harry sits through classes taught by this stranger.


	2. Chapter Two: A Window's View

**UPDATED: Saturday, July 03, 2004**  
  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own a single thing that J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling created within their stories.  
  
**Dead Man Walking**  
  
_Chapter Two: A Window's View_  
  
As the Weasleys' station wagon pulled up to the front of the King Cross Station, Harry found himself unable to stop thinking about what has been happening to him this past week. Other than the memories of the mysterious stranger from a few days ago, he had been spending nights sleeping peacefully instead of having dreams that would cause him to wake and bolt up right. Harry personally felt that this was a bit unnatural, but all the same a nice vacation from spending his nights with nightmares to haunt his sleep.  
  
He got out of the car and went around back to the trunk to unload his luggage to which Mr. Weasley was already doing and loading them carefully onto a portable cart. Once the station wagon had been emptied of all its burden, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led their pack of teenagers and Harry into the station to catch the 11 o'clock train to school. As they made their way through the crowds towards Platform 9 3/4, Harry saw some familiar faces of his fellow classmates, some of whom would turn to smile and wave at him.  
  
He would return their kind gesture when he was supposed to be listening to what Fred and George were telling Ron and him about their forthcoming joke shop. Harry caught bits and pieces of the three brother's conversation, but didn't really care enough about the subject to bring it to his full attention and take part in the debate. By the time they reached the portal to Platform 9 ¾, he was relieved to hear the non-stop chatter fade as the twins raced through it before their mother could yell at them about something they said.  
  
Since Harry and Ron were at the back of their little group, they would have to wait patiently until the twins would stop horsing around and teasing their poor little sister, Ginny. Ron just rolled his eyes in annoyance while Harry just smiled and tries his best to hide a laugh at her expense. Meanwhile, not far behind them in line and unknown to them, a tall mysterious stranger clad in all dark colored leather with his fedora hat low over the eyes, observed this small scene of commotion going on ahead of him.  
  
Soon his attention wandered over to the boy stifling a laugh as he followed his red-haired friend through the portal. As the line before him began to quickly vanish, the strange sight of people phasing through a portal didn't seem to bother him at all, but what did irk him was the fact at how ignorant all of these other normal humans around him were so blind as to not notice this. If he were just another ordinary person and didn't have any experience for keeping a sharp eye out for the paranormal, he would have noticed this bizarre sight straight away.  
  
The dark stranger mentally hesitated for a few seconds as he took the steps forward needed to get through the portal, but that didn't make his pace decrease at all. He just straightened his posture, cleared his mind of all thought and feeling, and walked on through the strange portal that felt like walking through a cloud when it's about to rain. As the stranger walked along, he was in complete darkness for a few seconds until he came out on the other side where it was a nice sunny day and this platform just as crowded and in a buzz as the one he left behind. He mentally shrugged for he had expected this much from what he had been informed about this place and other parts of the wizarding world.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had made it out of the portal and went over to a nearby bench to standby and wait for any signs of Hermione. This year, they had arranged ahead of time to meet up here so that it would be easier to get seats together in a private compartment. After a couple of minutes went by, however, Ron began to tap his foot and complain about their friend's tardiness out of his impatience. Harry knew all too well that his best friend wasn't the patient type...and could get anal about it.  
  
Sometimes telling him to can it didn't help matters all that much. So, Harry just took it all in and let that voice fade to the back of his mind in order for it not to grind against his nerves so much. He did this whenever he couldn't stand to listen to Ron's ranting a moment longer. To keep himself occupied, Harry swept his eyes over the sea of heads, looking for the one girl with long, wavy golden-brown hair that was Hermione. He just happened to bring his gaze over to the gateway just as the tall, dark, mysterious stranger stepped through it and into the bright sunlight.  
  
Harry's body stiffened, and yet, held a steady and unwavering gaze as he took in the appearance of this newcomer. He felt as if he were eyeing an opponent, taking in their every move and calculating them into his memory to see if he needed a plan to defend himself. So far, the stranger gave no signs of means to attack, but that didn't stop the warrior within' Harry from worrying.  
  
The dark clothing that the man before him wore was quite strange, out of place in a world like this. Some of the designs hinted that the outfit was of an outdated fashion and that this one wasn't to be messed with. The dark stranger wore a black trench coat over a buckled up leather shirt that went over a white undershirt with a scarf the color of blood that wrapped about the collar and dangled over the front of his top.  
  
His long legs were covered with black khaki pants and tall blackish-brown, leather boots with buckled straps that went up to his knees. The more interesting things about this stranger's appearance that Harry had noticed right away, was the fact that the man hide his face with the low edge of his fedora hat, eyes hidden behind thin-rimmed shades in the colors of a sunset, and the rest of his face underneath an ash colored scarf that wrapped about his head with the ends draping over his shoulders. Also, his hands were completely covered by black leather gloves and his belt sported a flashy metallic x symbol.  
  
Harry kept his eyes trained upon this man like a hawk as the dark stranger began to thread his way through the oncoming sea of youngsters. To say the least, it was not difficult to track him for he stood out amongst all of the adolescents by height and by fashion. Also, the man didn't take heed to the many eyes watching him, not even Harry's, as he passed by Harry and Ron, over to the platform. The young sorcerer would hear the occasional muffled sounds of apologies as the dark stranger got by the crowds of students and their massive luggage in tow. Alas, those words of kindness were unidentifiable from Harry's standpoint.  
  
He felt tempted to follow, but was all too aware of the more urgent objectives on his agenda for today. Just at that very moment as Harry chose to sigh mentally, the sound of a familiar voice caught his attention. "Good morning, guys! Thanks for waiting for me," came the cheery and inquisitive voice of Hermione Granger. "Sorry that I'm late, but muggle traffic was an absolute nightmare on the way here!"  
  
"About bloody time!" yelled the impatient Ron and threw up his hands in the air. Hermione came over and gave Harry a huge welcome hug and then turned to Ron. Rolling her eyes, she said in a sarcastic aire, "Love you, too!" and then proceeded to hug him. Pulling back, Hermione placed a hand over her heart and put on a mock hurt expression. "I feel **so** loved!" She raised a hand to wipe away a fake tear. Ron just stared at her, clearly not used to her sarcasm. Huge smiles spread across Hermione and Harry's faces from the sight of their friend's expression and began to crack up at it. Soon, their slow, red-headed friend joined in.  
  
Once the laughter died down, the infamous trio shifted their grips upon their luggage and began to haul it towards the opened doors of the boxcar that was admitting the passengers. As they shifted through the crowds, Harry looked on ahead of them and noticed the tall, dark stranger was about to board the Hogwart's Express. _'**Huh**...almost forgot about him...'_ the young sorcerer thought. The man in question was waiting patiently near the edge of the platform as the conductor inspected his ticket and light amount of luggage. He was only carrying a few packs that dangled near his hips with shoulder straps that slung over his shoulders and chest.  
  
"Who's that?" asked Hermione, nodding her head in the stranger's general direction for she found it rude to point at people. Harry's emerald orbs quickly flickered over to her for a moment, than back to the mysterious man. Although he already knew the answer to that question, for some reason the latter felt like he had to really think about this for a moment before stating his conclusion to this strange observation. Harry felt as if...well, he didn't really know what he felt, just...strange deep down somewhere in the pits of his innermost soul. At a loss for the right answer that he was getting bizarre notions from, Harry simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "I dunno..." Sounded stupid, but true.  
  
The scene before him changed and moved on as the conductor nodded to himself and returned the ticket to the tall, dark figure. The man smiled and offered kindly to help him with his luggage, but the stranger declined. Just as the conductor was about to reach out a lending hand to help hoist the latter up, the dark stranger lifted one knee and placed a foot upon the edge of the boxcar. Then he sunk his weight down upon the opposite knee and sprang up with ease to stand upon the entrance hallway of the Hogwart's Express. Some of the first and second years gaped and went wide eyed at the sight for a few seconds, for their legs weren't that long nor did they have the strength to do that. (Besides, the height between the platform and the entrance was about two feet high!) The lower end of the fedora hat shifted its attention towards the conductor for a moment and then continued on his way into the hallways of the boxcar.  
  
Harry safely assumed the dark figure must've flashed a cocky, toothy grin at the elderly wizard conductor from underneath the ashen hued scarf. Shortly after that, the trio themselves were lent a hand in transferring their huge trunks and cages from station trolley to the train's smaller trolley. Once they entered the fairly crowded hallway, Hermione chose a direction with less people and first years to find an empty compartment. She managed to find one down towards the end of the boxcar, closest to the divide that had an entrance that lead into the next one.  
  
Since Harry was lagging behind his companions, he took the time to look down the hallway to the right and left of him as he waited for them to go in. Upon the second or third quick scan over the sea of faces, Harry gazed further down the hall. The sight of the dark stranger leaning against the door frame to his open compartment, captivated the young wizard's attention immediately and froze to stare. What really got to Harry was the fact that the shrouded man was looking straight at him! No question about it, even with the golden shades on.  
  
The latter lifted a dark clad hand to grip the edge of his hat with the forefingers and bowed his head in a polite nod that translated as an unspoken greeting. Harry felt himself absent mindedly return the gesture with his own curt, nervous one, even though he truly hadn't intended on doing that. The stranger broke the staring match by turning away and shut the door behind him.  
  
Wanting to be rid of this bizarre and somewhat freaky feeling from that incident, Harry quickly whipped his attention back to his luggage and shoved them up onto the nearest shelf above the seats that were still empty in their compartment. He sank deeply onto the cushioned seat, exhaling a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "Are you alright?" asked a worried Hermione seated directly across from him near the window.  
  
Looking over at her, the latter said, "Yeah, sure! I'm fine..." Harry adjusted his position on the seat to more of a posture that resembled his normal confidence and strength. Hermione gave him a strange look for she could tell that this facade was a weak shield from the way her friend sounded a bit jumpy when he had answered her. "Are you sure?" she prompted, her brows knitting a bit with suspicion of the mask he put on.  
  
Seeing as that he had no choice but to answer her since she was obviously one known not to drop the subject and pick up on pretty much everything that Ron and him seemed to be feeling, he answered as best he could. "My mind is not all hung up on Sniffles. Really, guys..." said Harry in his best reassuring tone that he prayed was exuding the confidence that he was somewhat lacking to feel within'. He referred and looked to both of them straight in the eyes to make his point clear and see to it that it was understood. "...To be truly honest here, I haven't been as depressed as you both believed..." He paused there for a moment, taking a moment to hesitate whether he should tell his two best friends in all of the wizarding world of his dreams...those strange visions or "memories" that he had at night. Then again, Harry felt like that they wouldn't understand somehow. He didn't know why he just couldn't blurt it out to them... _"Heh...too many years of exile has made me more reserved than I like to be...kind of scary."_ said the young sorcerer to himself.  
  
As that flicker of a humorous memory, Harry's mind suddenly jolted to life and ran through the red light to realization. _"Me in exile?! ...what the bloody hell...?!"_ His brows knitted slightly and his gaze lowered to his lap. Hermione and Ron, left forgotten with their friend in such a deep reverie, narrowed their eyes in concern and studied him carefully. They were curious as to what was going through the Boy Who Lived's mind. Strangely, he didn't seem to be at the point of crying, but more of having a face that was in deep concentration that he normally whore when he was deeply serious about wanting to beat the crap out of Malfoy when he was being a royal git or was about to face danger head on without exuding much fear.

Coming to the conclusion that he wasn't just about to admit his "visions" to them; Harry decided to change the subject over to the mysterious stranger that was taking residence in the compartment down the hall. "You know that really tall guy we saw boarding the express not too long ago?" he asked, returning his focus upon his companions once more. Their expressions were of worry and then melted away into one of understanding and eager to listen. "Well...I have this really strange feeling about him...or maybe I'm just being paranoid because that's how I feel around most strangers. Anyways...I saw him looking directly **at **me before I came in here. He said hello but with no words, as in he just nodded his head and all...and hat! I returned the gesture, which was odd...But, that's not the point! What I am saying here is that I got some kind of freakish notion that I should actually **know **this man!" Hermione and Ron gave him skeptical, disbelieving stares. "And...I don't think he's the kind that you just happened to run into somewhere! Don't ask me how, but I...I feel as...as though we go way back..." Harry let out the rest of the tension in his breath come out in a heavy sigh from such a heavy load of realizations that were beyond his comprehension...at least for now...  
  
Ron's face was scrunched up with an incredulous expression of fantastically outrageous belief being difficult to absorb. "Blood hell..." he whispered under his breath. Then raising his voice for his friend to hear, "How in the heck do you know that?! That man is covered from head to toe in a funky looking outfit that's not even of the wizarding attire! How can you possibly tell who he is?" Ron emphasized certain parts of his speech with hand gestures that had been a habit since childhood. "I mean...you have to be **freakin'** psychic to know that! Unless you know something else that we don't..."  
  
Ron was interrupted in mid-sentence for Hermione had placed a firm grip upon his shoulder, signaling him to stop his ranting. "Ron, will you please calm down? Don't make this into such a big deal," she said in a mild scolding tone that she normally used with him when he was being overly dramatic. "You're going to make Harry feel bad for even speaking up in the first place." The red head's eyes narrowed at her, taking in what she said and then his expression softened as he looked over to his other best friend with apologetic green eyes. "Sorry...," the latter said shyly out of embarrassment for his behavior. "I didn't mean..." Hermione slipped her hand off his shoulder and back onto her lap.  
  
Feeling a little better from Hermione's chastisement of Ron, Harry smiled softly and shook his head, "No really, Ron, its okay...I understand that was a lot to handle. Even **I'm** having trouble with figuring this out!" He raised an arm to gesticulate his own uncomfortable bewilderment that landed back at his side to rest. Since none of them had a clue as to who was the mysterious stranger aboard the express, they all put the subject to rest and wait until they got to the Great Hall for the feast and the Sorting Hat Ceremony. They were going to rely on the Headmaster to reveal this during his speech.  
  
After the train took off from the station and for the next overbearingly long passing four to six hour ride to Hogwarts, the golden trio talked about their summer vacations, their forthcoming classes for the year, and played multiple rounds of Wizard's Snap and Wizard's Chess to kill that time. During the middle of the journey, the Food Trolley came by their compartment and they eagerly purchased refreshments. Another trolley dropped by nearly an hour or so later to ask them if they would like some sleeping supplies just in case they wanted to take a quick nap before arrival. Hermione and Harry eagerly accepted the offer, so that forced Ron into getting some too.

As Harry was setting up his pillows near the edge of the window, Hermione placed a charm upon the twin seats she shared with Ron, so that an individual seat could slide forward and lean back like a muggle car seat. This would give both of them enough room to sleep on a seat instead of the hard, cold floor since there were no cots available in the compartment. Harry and Ron laid down upon their make shift beds and moved about to get comfortable. They whipped their thin wool blankets over their bodies just as Hermione clapped her hands to douse the lights from all the way in her bed.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, for he was able to stretch out his body completely across his lone row of seats without any worries of accidentally hitting his neighbor in his sleep without realizing it until they were rudely shaken awake. He was, of course, referring to Ron since the red head did have a habit of having wild sleep behavior. _"Ron can be such a drama queen..."_ sighed Harry mentally and grinned a private amused grin. He felt his mind sinking and finally accepting the sandman's magic to make him fall asleep and temporarily forget that his dreams weren't normal anymore. The small smile upon his face soon faded away to give him more of peaceful and angelic appearance as he lay there, now asleep.  
  
This time of rest did not go wasted by viewing darkness behind closed lids. The swirl of colors within' a blurry image began to stream along Harry's mind behind his sleepy eyelids. A familiar sensation of a gentle breeze and long locks of dark brown hair flopping about and tickling his face welcomed him into the other side of the world and time that his dreams brought him every time. _Soon, Harry's vision began to come into a sharp focus as he took in the figure of Eomer standing before him, surrounded by his fellow and loyal Rohirim. He felt his mouth moving, saying something with a worried conviction, "They would only seem child to your eyes." Harry recognized his new voice as Aragorn's. He felt his left arm move to demonstrate the height of a halfing that he was referring to.  
_  
_Eomer's wide raven eyes studied the ranger for a moment, considering the possibility of a race of people that were **that **short. He slowly shook his head and gave Aragorn an apologetic look, "We left known alive..." Eomer looks grave for a moment more than placed his helmet with the marking of a horse crowning the top that covered most of his head. The loyal Rohirim did not notice the look of distress upon Harry's face as he remounted his mighty stead. Eomer quickly gave a fleeting glance over his shoulder towards the burning pile of dead orcs near the edge of Fangorn Forest and than turned back to Harry. "I advise you not to linger here much longer; this land is cursed by the White Wizard, Saruman." And with that, he yelled to his men and they went galloping off towards the northern borders of Rohan.  
  
Harry moved his stern gaze beyond from where the horseman had been standing to where he had seen Eomer looking towards. His eyes widened at the sight of the pile of black bodies and dark smoke pillowing out from it. The ranger's heart began to constrict with grief of what he hoped wasn't true to his mind as he began to make a mad dash over to the clearing near the edge of the forest. Harry could hear two pairs of feet closely behind him, following suit. The young sorcerer worried not for his new outer self knew it was only his fellowship companions, Legolas and Gimli.  
  
By the time he reached the top of the hill to the clearing, Harry could plainly see the remains of a battle and the burning corpses of the dead. Sad emerald eyes stared upon the gruesome pile and doing nothing more than that mattered for now. He didn't take much notice to the movement beside him when Gimli stepped forward to examine the remains with the blade of his axe. But, when the ranger did notice this action, he was about to tell the dwarf to leave the dead in peace and show some respect until the latter held up a familiar elven sword sheath from the wreckage. Gimli said something aloud, but Harry didn't hear him for his heart sank to an all time low. His body seemed to have become numb from grief and failure. Such intense and sudden were these emotions washing over him, that it made the ranger feel weak in the knees and crumpled to the ground upon them.  
  
Harry cried out in pain for the loss of the fellowship's youngest members, Merry and Pippin. He felt his fists clench into balls and raising them towards the heavens every so slightly, in an weak attempt to tame these wild emotions. All the while, repeating mercilessly over in his mind was, 'I've failed to save them...' This ranger had never failed to keep his promise...until now... In the background and somewhere over these depressing matters, Harry could hear the soft voice of an elf chanting a silent prayer in elvish not far from behind him. Legolas was hoping that the halfings' souls would find peace and ascend to the heavens above.  
  
Ever so slowly, the realization that they could do no more for their lost companions, dawned on the ranger's mind and heart so that he bowed his head down in resignation. He was also struggling some to hold back his unshed tears that were threatening to fall and for all to see that their great leader wasn't as strong as they were lead to believe. Harry stared straight into the ground for a while in a blind state. Soon, he tried to get his mind to quite mourning by allowing his eyes to explore the curves in the soil and disarrayed grass. A few moments went by like this, with every single sweep of the area becoming increasingly fascinating to the ranger.  
  
Harry tilted his head to the side a bit with new found glory in exploring this sight. His brow furrowed as information came flowing forth into his mind and rapidly clicking into place. Depression was tossed aside from the discovery. He scanned the ground further from where he was kneeling and got to his feet. The sudden movement after a long time of solemn peace, snapped the other hunters out of their dark reveries and immediately focus on him. They came up to him and Legolas was the first to voice his curiosity, "What is it, Aragorn?" Without tearing his fixated gaze away as he began to take careful steps about the battle torn earth, in a soft, distant tone the latter said, "The ground is still soft from the previous night's battle."  
  
Harry took a couple of steps forward to then squat down and run his hand near a patch of bear earth that had a small indentation. "A hobbit lay here...and their wrists were bound..." Like a path in a maze, he was eager to follow the small path of flatten grass left by bodies that had been crawling away from their captors. "They crawled on hands and feet..." Further ahead and with Legolas and Gimli not far behind, Harry squatted down again to pick up a thick mass of rope with the ends frayed from rough and frantic severing. "...their bounds were cut..." The ranger leaned over a bit to examine the tiny footprints that left depths of varying sizes in the soil. Harry quickened his pace, as did his companions. "The tracks lead away from the battle!"  
  
The texture of the ground below his gaze began to change as he went along. Tufts of grass, once plentiful in the Pleannor Fields, began to thin out and the turf was soon covered by dead leaves and bark from nearby trees... Harry raised his emerald orbs upwards abruptly to confirm that indeed the tracks were leading them towards a forest. He came to halt before the edge of the dense gathering of trees. "...into Fangorn Forest..." said the ranger in a stupor of awe. Harry froze to the spot, his breathing almost ceasing like when he halted, for he was not familiar with the layout of this rarely treaded upon territory. 'Why...?' the hunter asked himself_, but was cut short by a strange outside noise of some sort.  
  
Wonderful shades of nature began to blur and smear until the scene no longer made sense to Harry as the Fangorn Forest. Colors were quickly surrendering to the darkness, of nothingness. The boy's mind was in a slight panic at the sensation of that other world being torn, taken away from him when he wasn't expecting it nor prepared to let go just yet. No longer could Harry feel the wind upon his face nor the teasing of long silky locks. All of this other world was being replaced by the gentle rocking of his body upon something soft. Sensations of warmth of a blanket and a unruly short fringe were amongst the first things to welcome the Boy Who Lived back into reality.

Taking in these new sensations and the familiar sounds of an express train, it dawned on Harry that he had fallen asleep earlier and was riding the Hogwart's Express to school. Also, to be duly noted, he always felt nauseous, dizzy, after a dream like that and sat up too soon before it went away completely. He decided to remain where he lay, neatly sprawled out upon a set of seats with his face angled towards the window in satisfying comfort. With his eyes still closed and ignorant to the world around him now, Harry allowed his mind and other senses to do the exploring instead of his opticals taking it all in. Other than the noises the train and gusts of wind were making, the faint sounds of soft breathing hinted that his friends were still asleep across from him to his left.  
  
There was also something else...Something that he remembered picking up beyond the boundaries of his dream. Harry concentrated hard to ignore all of the other noises to hear this mysterious one. Suddenly, just beyond the window that his pillow was smashed up against, there came the distinct sound of wings beating. From the way that great amounts of air were shifting, the wing span of whatever was out there sounded huge, enormous. The more that Harry heard and thought about this, he came to a conclusion that this **thing** wasn't far away at all...More like the window was the only thing separating them. Growing ever more curious, the young sorcerer's eyes flew open and turned his body half way around in place to get a good look outside.  
  
Fortunately enough, Harry had accidentally fallen asleep with his glasses still on the bridge of his nose. He used two fingers to push them up higher to bring everything into better focus. Emerald fields (orbs) shadowed by the darkness of night, laced with sleep, scanned the slumbering world of passing landscapes and puffs of black smoke from the engine of the express. The long slender form of the smoke would furl as the wind played and teased them this way and that. Harry wondered vaguely, _"What's so special about that?"_ Huge, mighty wings slapping the air could still be heard and seemed to draw nearer to him. The boy's eyes widened as a large form began to phase its way through the trail of smoke.  
  
So much like the huge wingspan that he calculated earlier, the shadowy figure that was attached to them was even bigger. Although he could not see the entire body, Harry could see the shape of a pointed snout and an elongated neck floating before the wisps of smoke. The Boy Who Lived suddenly became confused as to why he wasn't afraid like most people exposed to a sight like this. Instead, there was the hunger to know more. Ah, a magical creature it was, but of what kind? Such a shame that it is so dark out... Suddenly, and without warning, the creature opened its big golden eyes. Harry gasped and that sudden intake of breath seemed to catch in his throat.  
  
Those eerie orbs of gold seemed to reflect the moonlight and made them shimmer, giving them the appearance that they were glowing in the night. Also, making it difficult to spot the huge black slits within' that were cat like in shape. Eyes that were like a sunrise in its golden phase, slowly and gracefully turned the head to look over at Harry. The glow vanished for a fraction of a second as the creature blinked. They soon returned to stare at those strange eyes behind the window nearby. Bizarre moltingly bright emerald orbs were meeting its curious stare and wonder. Within' the frame of a few seconds, the eerie green flashed a couple of times and slowly faded back to their normal, calm and expressive emerald nature. There was no doubt in this creature's mind that it had flown over to the right compartment.

The longer that Harry stared down into those golden depths, the more he mentally nagged himself for not even beginning nor showing signs of fear and even panic with an unfamiliar creature in his sights. Just didn't seem natural to the young wizard. If Harry did take more time to think about, he would've realized that he hadn't felt nor known the infamous emotion in quite a while. The mortal coil of ignorance did not run deep within' any corner of his soul. Determination and courage were a dominating trait for both his innermost beings. With the remaining shadows of sleep uplifting from his form and the return of some common sense, Harry lowered one hand to fumble around for his wand in his pant's pockets. All the while, never did his gaze wander away from the creature's.  
  
Many times, did his fingers find nothing but the rough texture of his jeans for he wasn't putting much effort into the search. Harry only needed his wand for a bit so that he could use a magical light spell to get a better look at what the mysterious flying figure outside was. Meanwhile, beyond the window, the dark form studied the young sorcerer's facial features and stature. In a way, measuring him up to see the truth in what his younger companion had told him a few days ago about this young one being "him." It still couldn't quite grasp the concept of such a mortal as youthful as this one could endure and live up to their king's entity, soul. Then again, many of these people it was surrounded by these days did seem awfully young compared to this creature in age.

Suddenly, the furling trails of thick black smoke began to thin down to the point where the landscape was becoming visible through it before the luminous eyes. The eyes narrowed in deep thought, no longer thinking about the boy. With given knowledge of many forms of transportation, namely trains in this matter, the dark figure became aware that the express train was about to come to a stop shortly. The golden glow upon the slender shaped head turned its attention to what was up ahead. Tiny orbs of torch lights flickering in the distance from the school's station told the creature that it must not linger here any longer than necessary. Also, it determined that the location of their arrival was about five to seven miles away and passengers would need to be notified soon. Raising the golden orbs a few degrees higher to gaze beyond the train station and with a wide landscape dividing the property, the castle known as Hogwarts stood proud and noble upon the uprising formation of earth.  
  
When the moltening gold shifted away from their staring match, Harry was left to wonder as to what had distracted it so. The hand that had been searching for his new wand had just given up, for getting a glimpse of the creature didn't seem to matter right now. Reflecting upon what he had just seen with the smoke, he could now see more of the shape that defined the winged magical creature. Although Harry still couldn't tell what it was, his eyes could identify a fluffy mane running along the neck and concealing the other features upon the slender head. The long dark locks moved like the waves upon a calm ocean surface with a gentle breeze tossing it about playfully. A few locks of the mane poured forth over one eye and with a graceful swish of the head, it flipped to the side. This behavior reminded Harry of a horse that he had only seen in his dreams.

He smiled at this for a while until the sound of a magical PA system knifed through the moment and silence. The sudden break in the stillness nearly made Harry leap out of his skin. He shifted his attention back inside the compartment to hear the announcement. "To all passengers aboard the Hogwart's Express," said the low, booming voice of an anxious train employee announcer. "We will be coming to a stop in about ten minutes, so I suggest that you all wake up from your naps and prepare to board off! Thank you, that is all!" Silence reigned the compartment for a few short lived seconds until grumbles of protest came from the sleepy Hogwarts' students. Harry could hear his friends begin to stir in their seats, including the colorful words that the redhead was muttering under his breath. The brunette rolled his eyes at the thought if Ron's mother were here to hear those words.  
  
By the time that Harry looked over to see Hermione sitting up and stretching her tired muscles, it suddenly struck him that he had forgotten about the majestic creature outside their window! Frantic emerald flickered back over to the view outside to only find that the dark figure had vanished. Harry leaned a bit closer to the glass, looked side to side, but found no sign of it. _"Bloody hell...!" _thought the Boy Who Lived, cursing for letting the strange sight go like that. In the background across from him, Hermione clapped her hands a few times that allowed the lights to come back on. Their compartment was soon flooded with brilliant light to which Harry closed his eyes and winced from the sudden, sharp pain of his pupils dilating so rapidly.

For the next ten minutes or so, the great many sounds of rustling hands and feet set about to tidy up his or her compartment could be heard through out the entire section of the express train nearest to any one person. The golden trio neatly stacked their sleeping supplies upon their seats temporarily until they could get their luggage down from the shelves above. As the boys pulled out the handle and wheels upon their chests of possessions, Hermione placed their borrowed supplies up high onto the shelves. Soon, with everything in order and hand, they stepped out into the hallway and made their way past some open compartments and down to the nearest exit to wait until the train came to a complete stop.  
  
When the express pulled into the station and the doors slid open, conductors jumped out from the doorways and conjured up a ramp for the students to walk off with ease. Harry and his friends maneuvered through the sea of wizards and witches to get closer to Hagrid, the school's grounds keeper, so that they could talk to him along the way to the shore of the lake before they had to load onto the little boats to get across. They only managed to get close enough to be behind the crowd of first years that were in tow around Hagrid's gigantic strides. Since the golden trio had the advantage of being slightly taller than the incoming first years, they were able to watch were they were going easily.  
  
With that given, Harry noticed another tall figure walking alongside the grounds keeper. He immediately recognized the mysterious dark stranger from earlier for his clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb. A couple of the first years were trying not to walk too close to the strange man. Harry mentally brushed that off as those kids just being scared and nervous around a stranger. Also, he noticed that the fedora hat was angled to the side, looking up and was talking up to Hagrid about something. Harry could hear the grunts and gruff accents in the half giant's dialect as he chuckled and responded to the stranger's questions and so forth. Based on Hagrid's reactions to whatever was being said, must mean that the man walking beside him wasn't such a bad person as the clothes had hinted to many. Although Harry had a theory about him, he was concerned that the guy was going to have quite a presence and a scary persona like Professor Snape or something of the like. Clearly this observation made him relax and feel a little better about the dark stranger, although he still had much to learn about him.

A few moments later, the huge incoming crowd marched their way up the marble staircase, passing by a huddle of nervous first years before Professor MaGonagall at the top and through the entrance hallway. As everyone was drawing closer to the great big wooden doors of the Great Hall, the two tall adults amongst them excused themselves to the front as they parted through the middle of the herd. Since they were the first to arrive before the grand entrance, the doors magically swung inward to welcome them in. The increasing gap between each set of doors allowed the light from within' the Great Hall to flow forth and spill across the hallway and people nearby, making their faces glow from other than anticipation.  
  
With doors wide open like outstretched, welcoming arms, the sea of people flowed in like a diverging wave into the Great Hall. As usual, there were four elongated lacquered tables for each house with millions of fiery white candles floating a few feet above them. The ceiling above was shrouded in many wonderful shades and hues of blue and black, matching the night sky beyond. All of the students from second through their seventh year, quickly seated themselves amongst their friends and proper housemates. They left room towards one end of the table closest to the school staff's table near the wall at the opposite end of the vast room. Meanwhile, Hagrid led the mysterious stranger down the ail between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor table towards the one where all of the teachers and staff were sitting.  
  
The grounds keeper found him a seat between the potions' master, Professor Snape, and the divination teacher, Professor Trelawny. When Harry had looked over and spotted this new seating arrangement, he quietly laughed to himself and felt immense pity for the guy. That poor man had to make small talk with an uptight ex-death eater and a crazy woman who kept making silly predictions about your sudden demise. Harry grinned wickedly as something just came to mind, _"Oh, this should be good! I can't wait to see what happens when she finally drives him insane with her nonsense! Hmm...I wonder if he could give Ol' Greaser there a conniption...? Be hella funny to see him tick Professor Snape off!"_ After that delightful thought, he turned his attention back over to his friends and told them the news.

Soon as everyone was comfortably seated, the entire room went as quiet as a graveyard as Professor MaGonagall led two neat lines of first years down the center ail towards the section of floor before the staff's table where the Sorting Hat, perched upon a stewel, was waiting. All of the room's occupants' eyes were fixated upon the front of the room. The transfiguration professor took up her position next to the old hat, gave her introduction speech about the ceremony, and then unfurled the scroll of names in her wrinkled hands. For the next fifteen to twenty minutes of the Sorting Ceremony, Professor MaGonagall read down the list of names to which lead to the latters coming up to sit upon the stewel and having the hat placed over their heads. The weather beaten hat filled with numerous stitches would study the children's mind and then shout out the chosen house.  
  
By the time that MaGonagall had finished A through K of the alphabet, she paused in her role call and looked up at her audience. She ignored their perplexed expressions and said, "Before I continue role call, I have a very important announcement to make. I would like for you all to know that we have a new student who enrolled at our school at the last moment. He's an American all the way from New Orleans, Louisiana, which is in the United States. Also, he's going to attend here as a seventh year and must be sorted into a house." Professor MaGonagall paused and took a moment to refer back to her list for the name. "Larsen, Aldin!"  
  
Upon recognizing the name _Larsen_, Harry suddenly froze and emerald eyes went wide from shock of recognition. He whipped around in his seat to see the identity of the cloaked stranger from days ago and to stop whispering with his friends. Harry looked to the front of the crowd of first years in line and spotted Larsen immediately. For the seventeen-year-old was about a foot taller than the others around him. This "Aldin" guy sported the raven school robes that seemed to compliment his golden blonde hair. His hair was short in the back and long in the front and crown. Floppy bangs that almost overlapped the top of his ears. The candle light gave the gold a nice shiny and silky look to it. Harry couldn't see his face nor his eyes for Larsen had his back to him.

Within' that short frame of scrutiny, Aldin Larsen stood tall as he approached and sat down upon the stewell. His deep blue eyes scanned over the sea of faces as MaGonagall held the Sorting Hat above his head. Just when she was about to place it over his golden locks, the stitches that resembled a pair of eyes and mouth twitched and blurted out, **"Ravenclaw!"** Many faces contorted into expressions of utter amazement at this. The hat had _never _come to a decision this quick nor before touching one's head since Draco Malfoy became a Slytherin five years ago. And like the platinum blonde fifth year, the new Ravenclaw had a huge grin on his face. All of the girls at the Ravenclaw table began to applaud with joy that they got the cute one as a housemate. Soon, everyone else at their table and the rest of the crowd joined in. Aldin stood up and went to find a seat in a nonchalant manner, as if this were no big deal as it was to everyone else.  
  
Harry's brow furrowed in deep thought as he continued to look on at the blonde. Intrigued to have learned what the seventh year's name was and what he had actually looked like underneath that dark hood. He remembered those cerulean orbs quite well, calm as the ocean blue and as penetrating as the twilight night skies. In the background and, once again, no longer seeming important to watch, the Sorting Ceremony had continued after the crowd got over their short lived stupor. Harry returned his attention back to his friends and answered their questions of why he had reacted the way he did when Aldin was announced. Nearly ten minutes later, the ceremony was finally completed. All of the houses received a fair and nearly equal amount of new additions to their tables.  
  
The Great Hall soon became very noisy as all of the older students were welcoming and introducing themselves to the new comers. Getting up from their spots to shake hands, exchange names, and make them feel at ease. All except the Slytherins, who were going about in a more calm and proper manner of etiquette. At the center head of the staff's table, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore got to his feet and requested for silence above the buzz with his hands raised. So it was said, so it was done. Dumbledore's inquisitive brown eyes flickered from familiar face to familiar face out there. Then, taking a deep breath and in a clear speaking voice, he began his traditional lecture about welcoming everyone back and explaining the school's vital rules that must be followed at all times.

As the headmaster briefed the rules about the Forbidden Forest, try outs for the school's Quidditch teams, punishment for bad behavior, and how schedule's work; his audience began to grow restless from their unrelenting appetites within' them. Even, Harry noticed, the dark stranger between "the mental cases" was losing his perfect posture and was beginning to slump in his seat. Somewhere during the explanation of poor behavior and bell schedules, the young sorcerer's attention was renewed with the fascination of learning as the man began to remove his black leather gloves and placing them next to the set of forks before him. Then, raising one bare hand, he pulled down the scarf to his neckline that revealed the lower half of his face that had been concealed from view. The skin was fair and smooth underneath the glow of the candle lights.  
  
"This year, I was fortunate enough to be allowed to hire whomever I wanted as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor without any pressure nor grief from the Ministry of Magic, like last year," said Dumbledore with a hint of pride in his voice. Harry decided to tune back into to what the headmaster was saying, for he too, desperately desired to know who it was this year. "He is a wonderful man and was so kind to accept my invitation, even after I told him about our school's reputation!" At this, the old wizard smiled warmly and raised his hands a little in a form of a small praise of gratitude. Also, nearby, the dark stranger straightened up in his seat, knowing it was almost his queue. "It is with great pleasure to introduce to you, Hogwart's brand new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher...Professor Draven Sabatt!"  
  
Upon hearing his name called, the latter got to his feet as all eyes were captivated on him. A wide grin spread across his features as he reached up to remove his fedora hat and bowed graciously. The arm holding the object pressed across his chest, with the hat held near his shoulder. With said object gone, it left to reveal long gorgeous locks of red hair that had been tinted almost to the roots, a metallic like orange. The light seemed to shimmer off the color like metal would. Professor Draven Sabatt's hair was swept back into a ponytail except for a few lone locks that had strayed from it. They framed his face when he had bowed, giving him a slight angelic appearance. Golden shades carefully balanced upon his cheek structure. "I am most honored to meet your acquaintances," came the soft, smoky voice of the new DADA professor. He slowly sat himself back down into his cushioned seat. Draven reached over the silverware and his neglected leather gloves on the table, and gently placed his dark brown fedora hat just beyond it.  
  
Before Harry had gotten the chance to calm his racing mind down from data overload, Dumbledore regained the attention in the room and announced that the feast may begin. He clapped his hands a couple of times that caused steaming plates of hot food and a variety of jugs of refreshments to appear upon all of the tables present within' the Great Hall. Everyone gasped with great delight and began to dig into the dishes eagerly. Just before Harry allowed himself to indulge in all this, he cast one last look in the new professor's direction. Draven had a fine red eyebrow arched in wonder from the sight of the arrival of the feast. An audible growl protested to Harry for food, so he eagerly turned back to serve himself and appease it. He joined in with his friends and fellow housemates' conversations, with a mind feeling at ease for having the mystery of the two strangers' identities been revealed. The Boy Who Lived allowed himself to believe that there was nothing more to learn about them beyond his own two eyes for the time being.  
  
**TO BE CONTINUED**  
  
**Commentary (Author's Notes)**  
  
Hey Everyone,  
  
I would like to make a few things clear about the new content that I added to this chapter (2) recently. Like the differentiation of hair color. Take different shades and references I make about blonde hair. When I say that Aldin Larsen's hair is "a golden blonde", think of Jonathan Jackson's (General Hospital and Disney's Tuck Everlasting) or Brad Pitt's hair in "Interview with the Vampire". When I describe it like that, you can tell it's very different from a "platinum blonde", which is like Draco Malfoy's (Tom Felton) in the Harry Potter movies.  
  
The other thing that I wanted to tell you guys is about Professor Draven Sabatt's voice. When I say it sounds soft and smoky, think of Johnny Depp's voice. As for his hair, I don't need to provide further explanation of that. No confusion there. About his golden shades, they look a lot like Alucard's from the manga, Hellsing. Also, his clothing looks like a combination of Gabriel Van Helsing from Van Helsing and Alucard's, too. I'm quite aware that I describe Draven as being really tall a lot. To give you guys a rough estimate of his height, I would have to say...somewhere between 6' to 6'4". As for Aldin, he's somewhat taller than the actors who play Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) and Draco (Tom Felton), but a bit shorter than the teachers.  
  
Later,  
  
Sodapop Allerdyce the Sane Psycho  
  
P/S: One more thing, as for news on the progress for Chapter Three, it's becoming quite difficult to come up with a plan for this one. Sorry, this may take a while to form an outline and appear here at KMC Forums and FF.net! Please be patient, my readers.

PP/S: I would also like to thank my faithful reviewers: airangel429, Trickster, LavieraJ, Veralidaine, Christina B, miriel, Tonks, and Princess Aranel.


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